So Dark This Night
by Celtic Aurora
Summary: AU. Kraven's plans have succeeded. The Elders are dead, and he now rules the covens, with Selene at his side, as his queen. But absolute power corrupts absolutely. Can Selene and Michael dethrone Kraven with the help of a hybrid and a mysterious teenager?
1. Preface: Plots and Pouring Rain

_**A/N: **Hey everyone! Welcome to my new story, **So Dark This Night: An Underworld Fanfic. **Now, before we start, a few things-_

_One: I know I said I would be submitting the first chapter of **The Taste of Revenge: A Dracula 2000/Van Helsing Crossover **before I posted this one. Well, I didn't exactly lie, but I guess I wasn't exactly telling the truth either...don't hurt me! Well, see, I had all intentions of posting the other story first, but I got some major inspiration for this one, so bear with me, as the other story will be coming soon._

_Two: I know I said this was going to be an Underworld/Van Helsing crossover. Well, in case you hadn't seen the notice on my homepage, I changed my mind. Instead, this will be my first Underworld multi-chaptered work! I hope you guys like and don't mind!_

_All right, let's get this show on the road, shall we?_

_**Disclaimer: **I own, like, nothing of this! All props for the characters you recognize go to Len Wiseman, Kevin Grevioux, and Danny McBride!

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_**Preface: Plots and Pouring Rain**

Kraven stood in the pouring rain, an angered expression on his porcelain features. Rain had plastered his thick raven hair to his head and soaked his clothes, chilling him to his immortal bones. Soren stood right behind him; the Irish vampiric bodyguard seemed unaffected by the rain.

At long last, a sleek black limousine pulled around the corner, stopping before the two soaking vampires. The door opened, and a massive dark-skinned man with a shaved-bald head got out, glaring at the pair-Raze, Lucian's right-hand lycan. The back door of limo opened, and Kraven gratefully slid in, leaving Soren and Raze glaring at each other, both vampire and werewolf nursing their centuries-old hate and bitter rivalry for each other.

Meanwhile, in the dark backseat of the limo, Kraven was busy raising a little hell. Frustration and resentment at being left to wait in the cold downpour fueled the flames of his anger, making him quite brazen.

"Engaging Death Dealers in public, and chasing after some human?" Kraven questioned. "This is _not_ what I had in mind! You were told…You were told to set up shop and lay low-!"

Kraven's dramatics had irritated Lucian to his breaking point. He lunged forward and wrapped a hand around Kraven's throat, slamming him against the back of his seat and instantly shutting him up.

"Calm yourself, Kraven!" Lucian ordered with a snarl. "The human…doesn't…concern you…" A small smirk briefly crossed the werewolf's face. "Besides…I've lain low for quite long enough…"

He released the vampire's throat, though not without one last little throttle. Kraven massaged his abused throat with one hand and glared balefully at Lucian. "Just keep your men at bay, Lucian," he ordered. "Don't force me to regret our arrangement."

Another smirk crossed Lucian's face. "You just concentrate on your part…" The smirk faded and he gazed sternly at Kraven. "Remember, I've bled for you once already. Without me, you'd have _nothing_…you'd be…_nothing_…"

Silence ruled the backseat of the limo for a few moments. Kraven continued to massage his throat, casting glances at Lucian from the corner of his eye. The lycan leader was staring straight ahead, as though lost in deep throat, absent-mindedly stroking the crest-shaped pendant around his throat.

"I've been thinking…" Kraven stated tentatively.

"Have you now?" Lucian asked in a cool, cynical tone. "Well, isn't _that _a welcome little change?"

If the vampire regent even heard-and comprehended- the insult, he gave no signs of it. Instead, he began to nervously twist one of the expensive jeweled rings on his snowy hands. "The members of the coven…I fear they're growing suspicious. They may suspect something of our plans. The Death Dealers…you know how suspicious those Death Dealers are, especially _Selene…_"

As soon as the vampiress's name passed his lips, his tone changed completely, from panicky suspicion to absolute reverence. Lucian rolled his eyes and made a noise of disgust in his throat.

_It's no secret he wishes to ravage that trigger-happy wretch that delights in depriving me of my men, _he thought to himself. _But you'd think he'd realize that if she's spurned his affections for six centuries, he'll never get her into his bed…_

Kraven gave Lucian a brief glare, then picked up where he left off. "…As I said, she's probably the most suspicious of them all. I fear she may suspect my-_our_- plans. Six hundred years of planning, we can't have it all go to waste in the last two days..!"

"Kraven, Kraven, Kraven," Lucian chided, shaking his head in mild disgust. "Need I remind you-_again_-that we've spent _six centuries_ laying down these plans? I think we've worked out a solution to every one of your little 'what-ifs?'…even the case of what our course of action would be should someone get too suspicious for their own good…"

It was now the vampire's turn to sigh in frustration. "I know, Lucian. But you know how these things usually end up: someone does something to disrupt our fragile plans and cause chaos. Who knows what someone suspicious enough will do? They may even go as far as to Awaken Markus or Viktor, and if either one of them are Awakened, our plans will most definitely go straight to Hell in a hand basket-!"

His tirade was interrupted by a low chuckle from Lucian. The lycan leader had his face turned away from Kraven, and was chuckling very softly and calmly. Kraven puffed up like an agitated rooster.

"I fail to find any of this funny!" he snapped. "I'm _thrilled _you can have a good chuckle about all this, but need I remind you which one of us will be condemned to eternal torment from the Elders should this plan fail-!"

"Again, calm yourself, Kraven," Lucian chuckled. "And don't worry about Viktor or Markus. They won't be awakening when someone goes to Awaken them…"

"And how do you know this?"

"Because…" Lucian said, reaching into the pocket of his leather duster. He drew out two corked vials, one labeled _Viktor _and the other labeled _Markus, _which he held out to Kraven. "Markus and Viktor won't be _alive_ when someone goes to Awaken them…"

Kraven reached out and took the vials. As his partner-in-crime handed the vials to him, Kraven noticed something at the lycan's wrist: a long, white scar wrapping around the underside of his wrist, as though he had slit his wrist open…and quite recently, too. Lucian grinned at the vampiric regent with wolfishly-pointed teeth.

"You're intelligent, Kraven, or so I've been led to believe," he said softly. "I trust you to figure out what to do with these…"

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_**A/N: **So, what do you think? Good, bad, whatever? Please drop a line to let me know! And from here on out, the plot is completely fan-based! They don't call it an alternate universe for nothing!_


	2. 1: Immortal Reich

_**A/N: **Hello everyone! Sorry it took me so long to update! I was busy, and I got a bit of a writer's block...but, as you can see, I overcame it and finally finished the first chapter!_

_All right...first off, I want to say thanks to **Covered Clouds, Kairi's-twin, SpeedDemon315, thecardinalsin66, ThranduilsDaughter, psioms2005, **and **Medieval Mystic **for the reviews! I was amazed to get seven reviews for such a short little chappie, so thanks to you all!_

_And a warning...um, there may be some content in later chapters that might be slightly more adult, so I may be forced to raise the rating from "T" to "M"...I'll have to see..._

_**Disclaimer: **I own none of these characters as of yet. I just own the plot that doesn't come from the movie._

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Chapter One: Immortal Reich

A soft sob, barely audible, echoed out in Selene's sparsely-furnished quarters. The sob was followed by a shaky intake of breath, as though whoever was crying was futilely attempting to pull themselves back together.

Selene sat on the small, upholstered divan in her room, staring down at the carpeted floor. Blood tears brimmed in her brown eyes and spilled over, trickling down her snowy cheeks like crimson rain. Her hands shook slightly as she wiped away the tears. Another small sob passed her blood-red lips.

_How could things have gone so wrong? _She asked herself, thinking of everything that had happened in the last few days.

She should have known something foul was going on. Ever since that night, at Ferenciek Station…Selene knew she had heard a few dozen lycans down in that sewer, no matter how casually Kraven had dismissed her worries. And then…hadn't Kraven invoked Lucian's name in front of her just the other night, even though the lycan leader had been thought to be dead for six centuries?

_He did…when I tried to tell him Michael may be important in all this…_she thought. _But he said that Lucian would not be interested in a human…I should have known something was wrong…I should have gone to someone, anyone…but I was trying to protect Michael…and now, there is no one I can go to…_

Last night-the night planned to be Markus's Awakening-tragedy had struck. After Lady Amelia and her envoy had failed to make to Ordoghaz from the train station, Kahn had sent out a few Death Dealers to retrieve them. But all they had found at Nyugati Station was a massacre. Amelia's entire envoy had been brutally ripped apart by what was presumed to be rogue lycans. The Elder herself had been completely drained of blood, left a dried-out husk in the midst of the massacre.

The small group of Death Dealers had arrived at Ordoghaz roughly the same time Selene had, after she had gone to check up on Michael and finding the chains unlocked and Michael gone. She could remember her confusion at her comrades' grim faces. She had followed them up to the dojo, where they had informed Kahn of what exactly had happened to the members of the New World coven.

From them, things were all one big, traumatic blur to Selene. They had tracked down Kraven, then gone down to the crypts. Seeing as Lady Amelia could no longer Awaken Markus, the responsibility fell to the closest thing the coven had to an Elder…Kraven, the second-in-command.

And yet…it would come to pass that there was more trouble in store. When Kraven and the others unearthed Markus's coffin, they were in for the surprise of their lives- someone had somehow broken into the crypt, unearthed Markus's tomb…and beheaded Markus. In panic, they had raised Viktor's coffin and quickly, Kraven cut his wrist and gave some of his blood to the slumbering Elder. Selene had waited with bated breath as Kraven's blood traversed the path through various bowls and channels, finally dripping into the Elder's mouth.

And…nothing.

Nothing happened.

Kahn shook his head in disbelief and sorrow. "No…" he said, his thick Cockney accent made even thicker by grief. "Viktor…him and Markus are both…_dead_…"

That had been too much for Selene. She had fled the crypt, tears brimming in her eyes; she had shut herself in her room and refused to leave.

Despite the fact that she had refused to come out of her room, everyone else had no qualms about waltzing right in. Kraven had come in to "console" her-well, more like gloat over the fact he was taking over the coven, seeing as neither Amelia nor Viktor had children to take their place, and Markus's son Nicholae had died centuries ago. Selene had found his presence so irritating that she had forcefully shoved him out of her quarters. And, of course, there was the maid-girl, Erika…

_Speak of the Devil…_Selene thought as Erika made her way into the room. She was carrying something over her arm in a white zip-up garment bag.

"What…_now_..?" Selene half-sighed, half-growled.

Erika raised her eyebrows in surprise at the agitated vampiress. "Kraven sent me. He told me to get you ready-"

"For what?"

"Didn't you hear?" Erika asked. "Tonight, they're officially announcing Kraven as the leader of the Old World Coven!" An excited look came over her face, and she held up the garment bag draped over her pale arm. "See? I had the dress you were supposed to wear to the party the other night laundered!" Her violet eyes narrowed as she glared at the sullen raven-haired vampiress. "And don't even think about trying to talk your way out of it. Kraven _insists _on you coming…"

Selene silently cursed her luck, but-not in the mood to pick a fight with the obnoxious little vampiress, even if she could easily win-she obediently took the garment bag from Erika and shooed her outside the door so she could dress in private.

* * *

Dmitri, the sole survivor of Amelia's envoy due to his sheer luck of coming to Ordoghaz two days before the Nyugati Station Massacre, came to stand before the fireplace and tapped a fingernail against his crystal goblet of blood.

"My lords and ladies," he said as the room fell silent. "I express my gratitude that you were all able to make it here tonight to this gathering, despite the…_unfortunate _circumstances…

"As you are all aware, last night, tragedy struck both noble houses of vampires. Our illustrious Lady Amelia was slaughtered in cold blood by renegade lycans-" Dmitri paused to keep his composure. "-And when an Awakening was attempted, both Markus and Viktor were found to be dead. Our three Elders have been taken from us, leaving us with no one to lead either noble 

house. Viktor and Amelia had no heirs, and Markus's only heir, Nicholae, was slaughtered centuries ago by lycans…But, there is hope. Amelia entrusted me to lead the New World Coven in her absences, and I intend to do so, even upon her death. And as for the Old World Coven…Six centuries ago, upon Lucian's death, Viktor placed Kraven of Leicester in charge of the Old World Coven in his absences. And now, it is with great honor that I introduce the new head of the Old World Coven…Kraven of Leicester."

Polite-though certainly not very enthusiastic, except in the case of the young female maids-applause broke out throughout the salon. Selene, however, did not applaud; she sullenly crossed her arms across her chest, tossing her head partially out of disdain, partially trying to get a stubborn, annoying strand of hair from her eyes. Erika had pulled her hair back in a stylish bun, but had insisted on leaving a few strands of hair hanging in her face.

Kraven entered the room, flanked-as always-by Soren and the rest of his cronies. He was resplendently dressed in the robes that the Elders always wore at their Awakenings…in fact, he wore Viktor's robes. Selene looked away, wishing she could will away the tears brimming in her chestnut eyes.

Kraven and Dmitri shook hands in a formal manner, then, Dmitri stepped aside to allow Kraven to speak. The newly appointed "Elder" cleared his throat.

"My lords and ladies," he said. "I realize how difficult this is for all of us. Markus, Viktor, and Amelia were all high, esteemed Elders and will be sorely missed and greatly remembered and honored. But do you not understand? This is not the end of an age! Quite the contrary-it's the beginning of a new era! Yes, I will be making a few changes…but, I assure you, these changes are for the better." He cleared his throat again. "A first item of business…From this point on, the Death Dealers are hereby disbanded."

Several loud cries of outrage echoed out. Selene leapt to her feet, along with several other Death Dealers.

"You can't disband the Death Dealers, Kraven!" Kahn cried out in his thick Cockney accent.

"Actually, Kahn, I _can_…and it looks like I have," Kraven said in a biting tone.

"Kraven, this is insanity!" Selene argued. "If the Death Dealers are disbanded, who's to track and kill the lycans?"

"There's to be no tracking and killing of lycans," he said. "It wouldn't do us much good to hunt and kill our newest allies…"

Selene's breath caught in her throat. She slumped back down in her seat, her mind fervently trying to process Kraven's last statement.

_Allies? _She asked herself. _I…I don't understand. How am I to avenge the deaths of my family if I cannot do away with the vile creatures that slaughtered them? How can I repay Viktor, my noble dark father, for all he's done for me, for giving me the strength to avenge my family, if I cannot help him in his campaign to eradicate the lycans?_

Kraven's news brought only one miniscule bit of hope to Selene: If there were no Death Dealers to hunt werewolves, Michael-the human all the werewolves wanted so badly-had some degree of protection from her unrelenting comrades, at least.

Some small degree…

Kraven cleared his throat again, a habit that Selene found was beginning to become annoying. "Second order of business…" he said. "As you all know, it was not just one Elder who ruled us all, or even two, like Dmitri and I. There were three Elders to rule. They shared the duties and relieved the burdens of leading the covens. And thus…I have chosen someone to rule the Old World coven at my side…as my queen…"

Several of the youngest fledgling maids down in the front, Erika included, gave excited gasps and began to whisper amongst themselves like gossiping schoolgirls. The more dignified and mature females of the coven began having quieter conversations amongst themselves, often casting furtive glances at the female Death Dealer who was staring daggers at Kraven.

Kraven began to cross the room, his movements very slow and deliberate. He wove gracefully through the numerous chairs, sofas, and vampires before finally coming to stand in front of Selene. A thin, cold smile that didn't reach his eyes crossed his face as he looked down at her.

"My queen…" he said. "You, Selene, are my queen…"

Sudden shock numbed her. Kraven's statement had left her in shock. _I am to be Kraven's queen? _She thought. _But…Haven't I told him there is nothing between us? Must I constantly remind him that I feel nothing towards him but dislike? By the Elders…I don't think this night can get much more unpleasant…_

She was so deep in thoughts she failed to notice Kraven taking her hand, pulling her to her feet, and damn near dragging her up to the front of the salon. She only noticed when a polite applause broke out throughout the room-from everyone except the fledgling maids, who were either scowling at her or crying over the injustice of it all.

"Behold, my lords and ladies," Kraven said. "Selene, Viktor's beloved protégé…and my queen for eternity!" He snatched up a goblet of warm cloned blood and raised it in a toast. "Let us drink to the memory of the Elders, and to the promise of things to come!"

Many others took up goblets of cloned blood. Selene simply stood, staring ahead, letting despair slowly start to consume her as the toast echoed out all around her.

"_Vitam et sanguine._"

Life and blood.

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_**A/N: **Oh, noes! The Elders have been murdered! I wonder who did it...(casts dark look at Kraven). Anyways...hope you enjoyed. Please fell free to drop a review if you'd be so kind!_


	3. 2: Dark Passion Plays

_**A/N: **Look?! Isn't it amazing? I finally sat my bum down and finished writing the next chapter of So Dark This Night!_

_All right...first off...I'd like to give an overwhelming thank you to the **eleven people **who left me reviews! Thank you to **emoBella, Twilight626, kloper70, Isabelle Eir, chase young's daughter, iccy, Selenegoddessofthemoon, Medieval Mystic, Kairi's-twin, SpeedDemon315, **and **ThranduilsDaughter! **God, I hope I haven't lost any of you with the...eh, what's it been? Four months? Five?_

_-pauses- Six?_

_**Disclaimer: **Currently, I own none of these characters. Just my plot._

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Chapter Two: Dark Passion Plays

The rest of the social gathering was little more than a blur to Selene. She stood at Kraven's side the rest of the time, still numbed by the shock of being announced as his queen. She didn't notice when that several of the disappointed maids gave her death glares throughout the rest of the party, nor did she notice the lecherous looks Kraven kept giving her throughout the rest of the party.

The gathering soon wound down, as vampires began to wander away to do their own activities. Kraven watched as the vampires departed; many of them approached him, shaking his hand, congratulating him on his new position as an Elder. He greeted these well-wishers with warm smiles and firm but friendly handshakes. But Selene, unlike the other vampires, wasn't fooled by Kraven's seemingly-pleasant demeanor. She saw his smile didn't meet his eyes; they remained cold and shrewd as always. Her keen senses could practically taste Kraven's impatience…she knew he didn't want to be here, wasting his time with these socialites…he wanted to be elsewhere, and he wanted something…something from Selene…something she wouldn't do if her immortal life were on the line and her death was a one-way ticket to Hell…

When she thought he wasn't looking, she surreptitiously slipped from the grand salon, heading towards her own quarters. As she walked with her normal quick-yet-bold stride, her hands went to her inky hair, and she began to yank the bobby pins that had been keeping her hair in some foolish, braided up-do free; as she did so, she silently cursed Kraven, and his stupidity for making her his queen.

_After six centuries of me spurning his advances, I would have thought he would have understood that I don't care for him, nor do I particularly like him! _Selene thought viciously, yanking at the hairpins, letting her ebony hair, now more wavy than straight from the braids, fall down around her shoulders. _Damn him…this is going to be a long eternity if he expects me to rule the coven at his side…_ She sighed heavily, a trace of sorrow now mingling with her frustration. _Why couldn't he just have left me to be a Death Dealer? _She then gave a derisive little snort. _Oh, right…he's disbanded the Death Dealers_. _Can't have us slaughtering our new allies, not even to avenge the vampires who gave their lives trying to exterminate those mongrels…_

She also cursed Erika for using so many bobby pins on that ridiculous hairstyle…and for putting them in so deep, they often made her scalp smart when she yanked them out…

The confused and angered Death Dealer was so caught up in her thoughts, she failed to notice the door to her room was ajar. She instead stormed through the door, yanking the last of the pins from her hair…But she stopped cold when she saw Kraven, sitting on the richly upholstered divan that served as her bed, one leg crossed over the other, a wine glass of cloned blood in one hand…the very epitome of a sophisticated socialite.

And an intruder…

"What are you doing in my room?" Selene asked, her voice low and dangerous.

Kraven ignored her query, running a hand over the divan's luxurious upholstery. "Hmm…to think, this is where my queen spends her days, sleeping, dreaming…hardly a fitting bed, considering your new status, is it, Selene?"

Her chestnut eyes narrowed at him, glittering with annoyance. "It's _fine_. And for the last time, I'll ask you _nicely_…what are you doing in my room?"

"I simply couldn't resist myself…" he told her, the first traces of a wicked smile curling one corner of his lips. "I wished to greet my queen when she returned. But…I have to wonder…why does my queen sleep alone? I thought to myself, surely, she's want a bit of…_company_…"

"If I want your company, I'll ask for it," Selene stated icily, folding her arms over her chest. A gleam of frustration began to sparkle in Kraven's eyes now; he stood and closed the distance between him and her, placing his empty wine glass on her desk as he passed it. He came close to her, so close that their bodies were just brushing against each other. Kraven's breath was warm, and reeked of cloned blood; his eyes roamed over her entire dress-clad form.

"You know…I believe you look even better with your hair down," he whispered in a voice laced with lust. "And it saves me the trouble…"

His lips suddenly descended upon hers forcibly, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth. She made a muffled noise of outrage, which Kraven silenced by deepening the kiss. His hands-which were as icy as his lips-roughly seized Selene's hips, and he all but dragged her to him, until their bodies were not only touching, but were crushed against each other.

He was enjoying it.

Selene, however, was _not_.

Her slender, pale hands curled into tight fists; she shrugged off the discomfort as the bobby pins she held dug into her skin. The muscles of her right leg tightened, and, in one fluid move, she drove her leg straight into Kraven's groin. He broke the kiss, teeth gritting in agony. Selene then proceeded to slam her open palm into Kraven's nose, sending agony straight through the cartilage and into his skull. Her lips curled into a small, triumphant smile.

But the victory was short-lived. His eyes glowing cerulean with rage, Kraven lunged at her, one hand grabbing her wrist, the other seizing her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat. Inch-long fangs dug into her neck, right at her jugular, catching her off-guard; she felt her blood leaving her body as Kraven sucked it away in an angry, greedy manner. She tried to shove him away, the entire time fighting down the urge to simply snap his neck clean in half. It would most certainly teach him not to mess with her…but it would also frame her as a murderer, and most likely turn the entire coven against her, if they were as enamored with Kraven as she believed them to be.

When Kraven had taken enough blood to leave her weak-kneed and lightheaded, he withdrew his fangs from her neck. Selene glared at him, her chestnut eyes ringed with vibrant azure haloes. His only response was a cold sneer.

"You _will_ give in to me," he growled. "And, if you won't…well, then, I can simply _make_ you give in…"

Selene's eyes widened slightly as the full implication of Kraven's words hit her like a blast of deadly sunlight. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I wouldn't, would I?" Kraven asked, voice full of lust and evil intention. "Try me…"

His hands returned to her hips, his fingers digging deeply, almost insistently, into the fabric of her dress, and her smooth, pliable skin underneath. Seeing as there was no adequate bed in the room, only a divan, Kraven backed Selene against a wall and his cold as ice, hard as stone form...

The bobby pins in her hand fell to the floor, scattering over the carpet…

* * *

The first thing to hit Michael was the scent of a watery, fetid sewer. It was a powerful stench…wherever he was, it stunk to high Heaven. Some other smells began to join it, each as unpleasant as the first…and, oddly enough, there was a scent of wet dog, too…

A door opened, its hinges practically screaming to be oiled. What sounded like at least four pairs of boot-clad feet clomped into the room, and the shrieked shut once more as it was closed. A low voice with a crisp accent spoke up.

"How is he? I should like a specimen who's, at the very least, healthy…"

Michael's eyes instantly shot open, despite the fact that his eyelids seemed to weigh a thousand pounds each. He knew that voice…it was the voice of the man from the elevator! The lunatic who had bit him two nights back! He tried to shout something-something involving a few choice words-to the dark haired, bearded man who bore a strange resemblance to Jesus (or, at least the Jesus Michael had always seen depicted) but found that he had been gagged.

A low chuckle met his ears. "Oh, he's healthy enough…" a voice rasped in a thick Austrian accent. A man standing near the biting man from the elevator turned towards Michael, and a leer spread over his shrewd, rat-like face. "Ah, and awake as well! Might this make things easier for you, Lucien?"

The first man-who apparently was named Lucien-nodded, a small smile spreading on his face. "That it might." He stepped forward, gently removing the gag from his prisoner's mouth. All the words that had been held back by the piece of grimy cloth tied over his mouth came tumbling out in one incomprehensible stream. Lucien gave a very small chuckle.

"I'm sorry…I fear I didn't understand you," he said, a bit of humor coloring his voice. "Although I believe I am partially to blame for that. What we gave you is quite strong. I should have warned you first."

"Bastard…you bit me…" Michael slurred, his head lolling forward as if his neck weren't able to support it. "What…what they hell…did you…do to me?"

"Why, I made sure that you would be where you belong," Lucien said, gently dapping at a spot on Michael's arm with iodine. "You belong with us. _You are one of us_…"

_One of what? _Michael wondered to himself distractedly. And then…he remembered something…just the other night…words said to him in the passenger's seat of a speeding Jaguar by a black-haired beauty with a face as pale and exotic as the surface of the moon…

"_A blood feud, between vampires and lycans…werewolves…" _she had said. _"By rights, I'd stop the car and kill you myself…You'd die. No one's ever survived a bite from both species…"_

A sudden, prickling pain in Michael's arm caught his attention, shaking him from his thoughts. Looking down, he saw that not only were those two "cops" from the hospital holding his arms down, but Lucien was drawing blood from his arm! He struggled futilely, thoroughly pissed by the indignity of it all.

"Please, do stop struggling," Lucien ordered calmly. "This will only take a minute more."

"What the hell are you doing to me?!"

"You see, Michael, there is a war going on-"

"I already learned that, thanks."

Lucien's lips twitched, as if he were going to smile. "Well, that's good…saves me the trouble. However, this so called war is really less of a war and more…_genocide_. Genocide that the vampires have brought upon me and my brethren." He withdrew the needle from Michael's arm, then pressed a small wad of cotton over the lightly-bleeding puncture. A cold, calculating smile grew upon his face as he examined the fluid within the glass of the syringe.

"The plan Kraven and I have together is ending this genocide," he added, his cold, cruel humor in his voice. "Your blood, however…you could call it…_insurance_."

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_**A/N: **Yes, you may all feel free to murder Kraven now, those of you who understand exactly what I implied...those of you who don't...well... -looks away, whistling-_

_Please review! And once more, I'm sorry for the serious lack of postage! I'll try to have the next chapter up much faster!_


	4. 3: Some Form of Stalemate

_**A/N: **Okay, I realize all of you who faithfully read this are probably reaching a whole new kind of pissed off since I don't update this one a lot. For that, I'm reeaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllyyyyyyyyy freaking sorry. I meant to have this chapter finished about two months ago, but between Thanksgiving, Christmas, homework, and midterms, this kind of got put on the back burner. It wasn't until I went and saw Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (Great movie, I am now officially in love with Lucian) that I got the kick in the rear that I needed._

_So, anyways, thanks to **Bobby Rae, Kairi's-twin, SpeedDemon315, chase young's daughter, Goth vampiregirl, **and **kimi-MSU **for your reviews (and hopefully, your patience), and please accept this chapter as my apology! And a promise that chapter four will come much faster._

_**Disclaimer: **Do I own Underworld? No. Do I own my plot? Yes. Don't steal my plot. Stealing isn't cool (And no, I am not stealing, I am **borrowing**, there is a difference)._

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Chapter Three: Some Form of Stalemate

The metal shutters that blocked the windows of Ordoghaz smoothly retracted as soon as the last rays of sun had gone, letting in the twilight for all the vampires to see.

Kraven awoke slowly, extremely content from the events of the previous night. Tonight marked the first night of his rule as the new reigning Elder of the Old World coven…and, essentially, the entire vampire world, seeing as Dmitri was such a pushover.

Not to mention there was the time he spent savoring Selene's…_company_.

_A coronation and a wedding night, all in one night_, he thought to himself as he sat up slowly, stretching, unaccustomed to sleeping on a narrow little divan…though it did the trick. He'd have to talk to Selene about getting a real bed, though; a divan was hardly a fitting place for his queen to lay her head…

"Get out."

He turned his attention towards the window, the direction he's heard Selene's voice come from. Her back was to him; she was dressed in her sleek ebony leathers, and her onyx hair seemed to glisten in the moonlight, as if she'd washed it recently, and it were still wet.

"Pardon me?"

"You heard me," she all but snarled. "Get out. Get out of my room now, Kraven."

"Oh, come now," Kraven said, standing. "Surely that's no way to greet your Elder…and technically, your new husband, as I've made you my queen-"

Selene whipped around, fixing Kraven with her wintry blue gaze, her fangs bared and her arms folded over her chest; she was the epitome of fed up and dangerously close to reaching a whole new level of pissed off.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room," she hissed dangerously. "NOW!"

A playful, wicked grin came over Kraven's face, and he sauntered to Selene, his hands wrapping around her upper arms, his icy lips brushing against her ear.

"As my queen wishes…" he whispered sensually. "I shall see you later, Selene…"

She pulled free of his grip, and he departed with a smirk. Her snowy fingers twitched, as though they longed to draw one of her twin Berettas and give Kraven a good parting shot to the back of the head. Pure, unadulterated hatred was etched deep into her beautiful features…

Outside, a car door slammed. Curiosity winning out over her silent seething, she pushed the heavy drapes aside, leaning against the window and looking out at the black limousine as its passenger emerged onto the circular driveway. Selene's brow furrowed at the newcomer as she struggled to remember where she's seen him before; as he walked towards the manor, and she got a clearer look at him, her brows shot up in surprise.

It was the very same man who had bitten Michael two nights ago at his apartment complex. The same man she'd found in a centuries-old text just last night.

Lucian.

Selene's chestnut eyes grew wide as she watched Lucian approach; she shook her head in disbelief, closing her eyes, thinking what she was seeing wasn't real. But no, he was real, she knew that when she opened her eyes and saw him still there. She backed away from the window, her hand reaching for one of her twin Berettas. _He's got a lot of explaining to do…_she thought, slamming one Beretta into a holster at her hip. _And he will explain, whether by choice…or by force._

Both pistols resting securely in the holsters at her hips, Selene left her room, headed towards the front door, intent on meeting the infamous lycan master-who apparently had mysteriously risen from his grave and wanted something from the vampires-herself.

As Lucian passed through the grand entrance hall, all eyes were upon him. Those old enough to remember the times when he and his marauding lycans wandered Hungary called out various things in confusion-and a bit of fear-while the younger vampires merely looked quite dumbfounded. Lucian, however, didn't care about the stir he was causing; he was at Ordoghaz for one reason and one reason alone: To sign an official peace treaty with Kraven, thus ending the shadow war between the vampires and the werewolves that had been carrying on for nearly a millennium now.

_Although I shall not complain if I cross paths with the elusive Selene, _he mused inwardly. _I should like to have a word with the overzealous bitch about her slaughtering my men on a regular basis…remind her that she can't get away with carrying out her precious Viktor's orders…_

He had barely made it out of the foyer, however, when he spotted a vampire coming towards him, pale as the moon with hair like the night sky, clad in sleek leathers as ebony in color as her hair…and looking curious, as well as sufficiently enraged.

_Speak of the vampire._

"You must be the notorious Selene," he said casually as he approached her. "Good to finally meet you."

"Lucian," she said, ice in her voice. "And I thought you were supposed to be dead."

"_Supposed _to be," he replied, his face a stoic mask. "But remember, dear girl, who has been telling the story for the last six centuries…"

_So I was right in thinking Kraven was-is-a lying bastard, _she thought venomously to herself. Her face contorted in disgust at how Lucian had addressed her by such a childish, endearing, cutesy name as _dear girl_!

"Don't call me dear girl," she hissed, her eyes flashing ice blue. "I'm six hundred some years old. Don't even think about treating me like a child-"

Before she could finish her sentence, she found her back shoved roughly against the wall, Lucian's hand wrapped tight around her throat. Sharp claws, temporarily replacing his human fingernails, pricked uncomfortably at her throat, irritating pressure points, but also bringing painful, burning memories of the previous night to her mind's eye.

"You seem to be under the horribly mistaken impression that you have some form of authority over me," he grounded out, a threat in his tone. "Allow me to help adjust your perspective." Was it merely her runaway imagination, or did Lucian's pupils seem to be dilating, the deep obsidian color threatening to overtake his dusky irises completely? "I've lived your pathetic little lifespan, and then some. I tolerated centuries of the cruelty of those like you, vampires like you. I've stood by and watched my fellow lycans tormented without mercy by Death Dealers, and I've been put under the knife-or the whip, or what have you-myself. I've seen horrors the likes of which you can't possibly imagine." He leaned closer to her, sharpened teeth bared in a threat. "And I have killed vampires for less. I'd mind what I say if I were you, Selene, for you never truly know who is your friend and who is your enemy."

His grip loosened, but he didn't drop his menacing gaze, one that would have made a lesser vampire quake. "And just as much now as ever, knowing who your friend is and who your enemy is can make all the difference." He fell silent, exchanging dark looks with Selene for a long moment. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

He departed, leaving Selene alone in the middle of the hall; she lifted her hand to her throat, feeling deep marks in her skin from the lycan's claws. Her mind whirled and churned, replaying that encounter over and over, setting off alarm-bells in her mind.

At the height of his anger, Lucian's eyes had not been that fierce cobalt they'd always been in every other lycan she'd ever encountered.

They had been black as night.

***

"He's late."

Soren said nothing to Kraven's impatient words, only nodded, his eyes scanning the room. Kraven shifted in his chair, his fingers drumming impatiently against the mahogany wood desk fit for…well, an Elder.

"He's late."

"Tell me something I don't already know," Lucian drawled as he strode through the door, stopping before Kraven's desk, his lips set in an emotionless line, with just a tiny curl of a smirk at one corner. The vampire eyed him darkly.

"What took you so long?"

"I had a run-in with your little Death Dealer friend, Selene."

Kraven stiffened, his dark eyes flashing. "She best be alive and unharmed, Lucian, or it'll be your head on a plate."

Lucian rolled his eyes at Kraven's melodramatics. "Relax. We engaged in no duel, only exchanged a few words. Quite the spirit she has."

"Now do you see why I've been relentless in my affections all these centuries?"

The lycan master gave a non-committal grunt, his eyes scanning the desk. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

Lucian gave him a disdainful look, his dark eyes practically screaming _idiot_ at Kraven. "What do you think? The treaty."

Kraven reached into his coat, a little smirk on his face. "Right, right. Fear not, Lucian, its right here." He removed a crisply-folded sheet of very official stationery. "I merely stowed it away for safekeeping."

Lucian watched impatiently as Kraven unfolded the document-the precious treaty that would end this shadow war-and signed it in a few places. He then pushed it towards Lucian, who took it up eagerly, reading it over. His brow furrowed as he read over the treaty; Kraven felt a bead of cold sweat trickle down his spine.

"Something wrong, Lucian?"

"Some of these terms of agreement seem…_off_," he responded, glancing up from the treaty to his cohort. "For example, I have noticed that it seems that no territorial lands have been drawn up for the lycans. A pity, as I had hoped to move my men from the bowels of Budapest's plumbing network."

Kraven blanched. "I must have forgotten that-I'll add it at a later date." He offered a pen to Lucian. "I just need you to sign where I've signed…"

The lycan master said nothing, nor did he move to take the pen from the newly-appointed Elder. Instead, he folded the treaty neatly and tucked into his leather coat, provoking a stunned expression from Kraven. "I merely wish to look it over, make sure that I'm receiving a fair end of the bargain. I will sign it and return it to you when I deem that it is fair to both us and our respective…species."

He turned sharply, heading out the door of the study. Before he walked out completely, however, he turned around, fixing the former regent with his dark-eyed glare.

"I hope you realize that there may be several revisions before we reach that aforementioned place."

* * *


	5. 4: Advice for the Lovestruck

_**A/N: **Hello, all! As always, I'm really sorry that the updates take so long, but this time, I have a VALID excuse-I had a rather large writing project due in my Creative Writing class, which put everything else I was writing on the back burner, unfortunately..._

_Anyways, I'd love to thank everyone who reviewed: **Bobby Rae, daccu65, alfalfa7, JuggsGotYa, ThranduilsDaughter, Skyestrike65, David Fishwick, SpeedDemon315, Kyrptonian250, **and **chase young's daughter**. Sheesh, guys-ten reviews! That's nuts!_

_**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Underworld...which makes me sad...it would be cool to own Lucian..._

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Chapter Four: Advice for the Lovestruck

The sounds of leaves crumpling and twigs snapping under his boots were muffled by the snow that had only started falling a few hours ago. Flakes of white stuck to his dirty blonde hair, greasy and in desperate need of a wash, and also to the ripped and bloody T-shirt that clothed his lean, athletic torso.

But Michael hardly felt the chill in the air, or the cold snow on his skin. It baffled him to no end, how he was suddenly impervious to the cold, but he wasn't exactly whining-the cold felt good on his slightly-feverish skin.

He half-walked, half-staggered to the gates of Ordoghaz, stopping and staring at the imposing manor before him. He remembered stumbling up to the gates of the very same manor two nights ago, desperately searching for Selene, knowing she could tell him what the hell was happening.

_And now, she brings me back here again…_

He didn't know what it was about Selene that he found so hard to resist. Stoic, cold-hearted, and clearly, she despised the entire breed that Michael was now a reluctant member of…none of that was really all that appealing, in all honesty.

But he remembered what had happened two nights back, in that safe-house in downtown Pest. He recalled breaking past her jaded, stoic shell, seeing a bit of the true Selene, the Selene that mourned her family six centuries later, that only wanted revenge on the lycans that had torn her world asunder in one night. Not to mention Michael found he couldn't really resist her outward appearance, not with those enticing dark eyes, that silky black hair, that smooth, moon-bathed skin…

The gates to Ordoghaz creaked open, and a sleek black limousine emerged from the circular driveway. But, just as Selene's car had two nights ago, the limo stopped beside him. The darkly-tinted back window rolled down, and he found himself face-to-face with none other than Lucian.

"Michael," he stated flatly, somewhere between a statement and a question. He glanced at the manor, then back at his new recruit. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

The new lycan said nothing, unsure as to how to respond to Lucian's comment. The lycan master sighed, then leaned back into the limousine for a moment. "Keep it running, Raze. This shouldn't take long."

He couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension and foreboding at Lucian's comment; he watched as his leader emerged from the limo, slamming the door shut behind him. Michael braced himself, should Lucian yell at him, but he merely started to walk back towards the gates, motioning for Michael to follow. He did, curious as to what was going on; Lucian stopped a foot or two from the gate, his eyes fixed on the manor beyond, hands clasped behind his back, his expression pensive, almost brooding.

"What is it about her that draws you here, Michael?" he questioned in a monotone.

Michael blinked, feigning confusion. "What about whom?"

A smirk came over the face of the elder of the duo. "Please. I'm neither blind nor stupid. I know that there's something about the elusive Selene that draws you here, like a moth to the flame. I just want to know what."

The young lycan shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to look nonchalant. "I…I don't know," he confessed honestly. "Maybe it's because she's fierce. Maybe it's because she's gorgeous. Maybe it's because she's unlike anything I've ever seen before. I really don't know."

"I will give you credit, she certainly is…unique."

"I think she's trying to push me away, though," he continued. "Like three nights ago, when she handcuffed me at the safe-house…she said it was because she couldn't risk me running free. I still can't tell whether it was because she didn't want you finding me or because she didn't want me following her back here. Is she trying to drive me away..?"

While not exactly a question, Michael rather hoped for an answer from his sire. He glanced over at Lucian, who was still staring at the manor. His dark eyes looked as if he was lost in thought, or maybe memories…

"Do you not know how you feel about her?" Lucian questioned out of the blue.

Michael glanced over at him. "I…I want to get to know her better, that's for certain. Call it infatuation, call it fascination…I'm not sure what it is. But I feel almost as if she's pushing me away…"

"I know the feeling all too well," Lucian commented. "It was long ago, but I still remember her…"

"Remember who?" the American doctor questioned. He couldn't help but wonder if what Lucian was talking about had anything to do with the woman he kept seeing in those hallucination-esque memories Selene had mentioned.

"Sonja." His voice, usually so even-keeled. Had an undertone of sentimentality, along with longing and…was that sorrow Michael heard? "Looking back, I think now that I loved Sonja her entire life. For a long time, however, I was nothing to her. She knew me not as Lucian, but as blacksmith, or lycan. For the longest time, I thought she was pushing me away. I had to force it out of her, how she truly felt about me."

Michael absorbed the story, then paused to think something over. He may have only been in the lycan den for two nights, but he had managed to make a few observations. One of them had been that he hadn't seen a lot of female lycans. Another observation had been that none of them seemed intimately close with Lucian. And the third and final observation had been that the woman from Lucian's memories-Sonja, he called her, and an eerie look-alike to Selene-was not among any of the females of the group.

"What happened to Sonja?"

Lucian didn't answer; he turned away from Ordoghaz, heading back towards the stalling limo. "I have only one piece of advice to offer you, Michael, and that is if you want to determine whether Selene is pushing you away or not, tell her how you feel." A bitter sort of smile came to his face. "That is, if you can get into the manor and get to her without being torn apart by an entire coven of vampires. Just because we're 'allies' now doesn't mean that I think Kraven will be inviting us over for sherry and giggles."

"She'll come looking for me," Michael stated, trying to keep the questioning out of his voice as he ducked into the limo after Lucian.

Lucian gave a small, almost inaudible chuckle. "I'm afraid not, my friend. Not when she's on as tight a leash as the one Kraven has her on."

Michael felt his hands tightening into fists, clutching the leather of the seat under him in his hands. Claws slid out from his nail beds, prickling the fine upholstery. His stomach clenched and churned, but not with nausea, with something that felt more like…anger.

"Oh, yes," the lycan master commented, motioning for Raze to head back towards Ferenciek Station. "Kraven is _very_ possessive of what's his…"


	6. 5: Escaping Prison Mentality

_**A/N: **Well, hello to everyone! I'll bet you all thought that I forgot about this story!_

_Well, to be honest, I did. I won't lie, I kind of did-not to mention my inspiration for this story dried up. Not good. And that's why it's been...Good Lord, has it been almost a year since I updated it? Sheesh, I'm terrible, leaving all of you hanging like that._

_Although, I'm happy to report that I finally got my inspiration back, and thus, I give you the fifth chapter of So Dark This Night! Before we start, I'd like to say thank you to **Bobby Rae, Kryptonian250, daccu65, SpeedDemon315, chase young's daughter, Kairi's-twin, JustAnotherParallelDimension, alison94, nikki-chiki, Explodium, **and** me12243** for the reviews-11 reviews, I'm pretty sure that's the most I've ever gotten for a chapter! I hope you all haven't abandoned the story, as I do plan on updating this one more often now-on my honor, or may I be cut up and made into soup!_

_All right, on with the show!_

_**PS:** I'm also going to start doing what I do with most of my other stories, and adding song lyrics at the beginning of the chapters. Mostly because it's fun.  
_

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own Lucian, Michael, Selene, Kraven, or anyone else so far, for that matter. That, unfortunately, hasn't changed in almost a year._

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"In a courtyard

Used to sing as loud as she could

Locked away here

She's been quiet, lovely, and good

But no one listens now

She lost her voice, she had no choice

If you sing loud and clear

Someone passing by will surely hear you

No you can't be afraid

If you ever want somebody near you

If you sing loud and clear

Someone passing by will surely hear you

No, you can't be afraid."

-"_Rapunzel_" by Emilie Autumn

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Chapter Five: Escaping Prison Mentality

Rain lashed against the window. A fire crackled in the fireplace. People strolled up and down the hallways, occasionally-no, _often_-carrying on conversations.

All this threatened to distract Selene from what she was doing, and that was the _last_ thing she wanted.

She sat on the divan, dressed not in another ridiculously expensive dress for one of Kraven's absurd social functions, but instead in a pair of tight pants of black leather, and a sleeveless shirt of a similar material, which laced up the front like a corset-more normal clothing, to her, anyways. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, pale feet bare, and her hands were occupied with printouts of the pictures on Rigel's camera.

_So what if Kraven's called off all Death Dealer activities?_ She mused vindictively. _So what if the lycans are our allies now? I still owe that larger lycan a few silver bullets. I've seen the pictures of what he did to Nathaniel. We can't possibly let that go without retribution._ A wicked smile curled over her face. _Kraven can take his little decrees and shove them up his conniving, pompous a-_

Her silent rebellion was cut short by the rattling of the doorknob. It ceased after a moment, but was immediately followed by the sound of a key scraping in the lock. A moment later, the door swung open, admitting none other than Kraven.

She didn't look up from the photos. "It was locked for a reason, you know."

"Yes, but you gave me the key." Grinning his frustrating, arrogant, eat-shit grin, the former regent held up a rather old-fashioned key for Selene to see.

Or, rather, ignore.

"For the record, I never gave you that key. You took the spare that I had hidden under a loose section of carpet. You never asked to have a key to my room, just as you never asked if it was all right for you to move into my room with me-which, by the way, it wasn't." She finally looked up, her dark eyes practically overflowing contempt. "What do you want?"

"First, you are my queen, Selene. We're as good as married, and therefore expected to sleep in the same bed," Kraven began, approaching her as her eyes dropped back to the pictures.

"_Expected_ does not mean _required._"

"Second, you missed something very important." He stopped beside her, staring down at her. "You missed the Appropriation of the Council-you were expected to be there. You, as my queen, do have a seat on the Council."

"I had more important things to do."

He scoffed as he strolled away. "Looking at pictures?"

"Yes."

His eyes rested on her again, his brow furrowing. "Seriously?"

Selene looked up, turning her head so she was looking directly at Kraven. "Do I not look serious?"

"For Christ's sake, Selene," the new Elder groaned, moving away from her to a small, polished table near the window. A look of exasperation adorning his face, he poured himself a shot of scotch. "You have to get over this ridiculous attachment you have to your life as a Death Dealer. _Those_ days are over. There's no more war, there's no more Death Dealers-simple as that."

"Perhaps to you, but not to me," she informed him waspishly. "Remember, some of us haven't been smoking, drinking, and whoring our way through eternity. Some of us were actually putting our immortality to good use."

"_Good use?_" he sneered. "Getting yourselves killed for blind belief and pointless allegiance in a petty war started by two bitter old immortals? Oh, that's really putting your immortality to good use."

His stinging comments proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

No sooner had the words died on his lips than did he suddenly find himself slammed against the wall, hard enough that the breath was driven from his lungs. Selene's hand at his collar kept him against the wall, while her dark eyes-now ringed with haloes of blue-bore into him with enough intensity to peel stones.

"Hundreds of vampires died for something they believed in were willing to fight for," she hissed, her voice low, her eyes dangerous. "Don't you _dare_ dishonor their sacrifice because you were too damn cowardly to go out there and fight for yourself."

She relinquished her hold on him, turning away and kneeling to gather the photos that had been scattered in her rage. Kraven stared at her for a moment, rather dumbfounded, before readjusting his wrinkled shirt and attempting to regain some semblance of composure and dignity. He strolled to the door, turning back and fixing his gaze on Selene.

"Tonight is the first session of the Council, to discuss assimilation of the America coven," he informed her. "Your presence is _expected_."

With a smugly triumphant look, as though he had won something, the new Elder waltzed out the room, slamming the door behind him. Selene was tempted to flip him a parting birdie, and might have done so if her hands hadn't been occupied by Rigel's pictures. Heaving an exasperated sigh, she directed her gaze downward, at the photos, only to find an image of a rain-soaked Michael staring her in the face.

_Oh, of course._

Michael-it almost went without saying that she missed him, even though she'd only known him a few days. Although, now, she'd die for the company of any male that wasn't Kraven. The only men she'd seen beside the infuriating former regent were Kahn-who was just as perturbed over the disbanding of the Death Dealers as she was, and raved about that the duration of his visit-and the American Death Dealer, Mason, who came with two glasses of cattle blood and a listening ear. While she didn't know him too well-he'd only arrived at the coven half a century ago, sent over by Amelia to aid the coven during a nasty surge in the lycan population-she did appreciate his listening ear to her troubles and his hesitant grin when he told her that things would get better in time.

Fed up, she dropped the pictures on the divan and wandered over to the window, staring out over the grounds, and the gates that lie beyond. While intricate and beautiful, the ornate gates may as well have been barbed wire and electric fences to Selene. Kraven's take-over of the Ordoghaz coven had occurred approximately one month ago, and since then, she had stepped out on the grounds maybe twice (the sudden snowstorm and subsequent melting that had turned the grounds to a muddy, slushy mess hadn't exactly helped) and hadn't left the premises at all. It was a miserable existence, one that she hated. She hadn't been down to Budapest in almost a month now-not since the night she'd found Michael missing from the safehouse, and found the Elders dead in the crypts (or, in Amelia's case, at Nyugati Station). That had been her fateful last trip to Budapest.

And, seeing as Kraven had taken the keys to her Jaguar, it looked like she wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

She hissed through her fangs, glaring at the gates surrounding the manor as if it was their fault her life presently sucked. "I need to get out of here."

"No, what you need to do is to stop angsting, get up off your ass, and do something."

She whipped around, reaching for her Berettas out of habit, even though she didn't carry them anymore (another thing that Kraven had confiscated), only to find someone entering her room through the unlocked door.

Herself.

Well, not completely herself. A pair of bluish-purple eyes stared hard at her from under a mop of messy, shoulder-length raven hair, and the form-fitting black top bared more skin than Selene ever really would, but other than that, she swore she was looking into a mirror. She blinked several times, astonished.

"_Erika?_"

"None other," the young vampiress replied, stopping at the divan, resting one hand on the back of it and placing the other on her hip.

"What did you do?"

She rolled her eyes. "I would think the answer would be obvious, especially to a seasoned Death Dealer like yourself. Really, Selene, a month off the job and you're already losing your touch."

The former Death Dealer's hands went for where the twin pistols used to be holstered, her temper rising at Erika's smarminess. Although, deep down inside (where she was likely to deny it even under heaviest torture) she was proud that Erika finally seemed to be abandoning her sycophantic, servile nature in favor of a backbone.

"Thank you for your opinion, though I don't recall asking for it." She peered at her new doppelganger for a long moment. "You disguised yourself as me."

"There you go."

"But why?"

"Because for the past month, you've all but locked yourself in here, brooding under your little cloud of misery," she began. "It's not healthy, and we both know it. I know you don't want this life that Kraven's resigned you to. Some people would tell you to deal with it-but I know if I told you that, you'd eventually either kill him or kill yourself. Others would tell you to run away, but I know that if he finds you gone, he will utterly lose his mind."

"And your answer to this problem is-?"

"A compromise." Erika produced a small black backpack from behind her, tossing it to Selene. Curious, the vampire opened it, pawing through its contents. Inside, she found three shirts (mercifully all black), a dark pair of jeans, a wallet (which she suspected contained cash and cards that were probably Kraven's), a few necessary toiletries, and, at the very bottom of the bag, next to a pair of boots, her twin Beretta 9mm pistols.

She looked up at Erika, the corners of her mouth turning up in the smallest of smiles. "Should I ask where you got all of this?"

"Probably not. Now put some shoes on and get going, you're burning moonlight," Erika instructed.

"What about Kraven? He'll notice I'm gone."

"Not if I cover for you-which was the plan." She gestured to her newly dyed and trimmed hair. "Why else go to all this effort? Although"-She eyed Selene's outfit, then her own.-"We might want to swap clothes before we go, just so we-well, I-seem more authentic."

And so, twenty minutes later, Selene found herself awkwardly tugging on the neckline of Erika's blouse, trying to conceal a little more skin, while watching the other vampiress fiddle with the laces to her top. Astonishingly enough, they were both roughly the same size, making their clothes fit almost perfectly. Erika's jeans felt strange against Selene's legs; she'd never worn jeans before, and the denim felt rough and stiff, clinging to her skin like a wet blanket. Unlike her leather bodysuit, these pants felt like no second skin.

"All right, I'd say you're ready to go." Erika produced a set of keys, seemingly out of nowhere, and tossed them to Selene. "Take my car-it's the black Audi on the end. He won't notice if my car's gone."

She nodded, heading for the window and opening it. However, she paused on the ledge, looking over her shoulder at Erika.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I'm not. I'm helping me," she stated, matter-of-factly. "Now go, before he comes in here."

With a firm nod, she leapt from the window, running for Erika's car before her boots even hit the muddy ground. She darted into the car, jamming the key into the ignition and starting the car with the intentions of a speedy getaway. Thankfully, the engine roared to life in no time, and the CD player in the car also came alive, blasting Selene's ears with loud guitar riffs and a wild, frantic drum beat. She arched an eyebrow, having expected Erika to have softer tastes in music-but she couldn't deny, it was perfect music for driving fast.

Which was exactly what she intended to do.

And so, she threw the car into drive and practically stomped on the accelerator, zipping around the manor's circular driveway and through the gates, heading towards Budapest.

There was a certain doctor she needed to see right away.


	7. 6: Blind Belief

_**A/N: **See, I told you I'd update much faster than I did last time, didn't I?_

_So, here it is, chapter six! I'd like to thank **GABINCUBUS**, **Explodium**, **SpeedDemon315**, **keili77**, and **chase young's daughter** for their reviews! Thanks for not giving up on me, guys!_

_Oh, and just before we start, I will warn you, this chapter is not for virgin ears. Pierce and Taylor don't exactly have the nicest mouths, and sometimes, Selene isn't any better..._

_**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Underworld, just borrowing and having fun with it...

* * *

_

"Words like violence

Break the silence

Come crashing in

Into my world

Painful to me

Pierce right through me

Can't you understand

Oh, my little girl

All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here in my arms

Words are very unnecessary

They can only do harm."

-"_Enjoy the Silence_" by Lacuna Coil_

* * *

_

Chapter Six: Blind Belief

Taylor scowled, thoroughly bored with guard duty. Particularly because he wasn't assigned to the front gate-that was where the action was. At the very least, he could chatter idly with some of his fellows while he watched the hate. Maybe eve sneak away for a quick, furtive tryst with one of the den's rather robust females.

But no. For their failure to bring back so much as a blood sample from Michael Corvin the first time they had been asked, Lucian had sentenced both him and Pierce to guard the sewer grate that led to the tunnels leading to the den. The very outskirts of the lycans' little underground civilization.

"This is such bullshit," he complained to Pierce, who was leaning against the wall, paying more attention to the barrel of his submachine gun than to the entrance he was supposed to be guarding. "We brought him back here, didn't we? I don't get why we're being punished for, technically, doing our job."

"Kid, you haven't been here long enough," Pierce replied, his tone flat and bored. "Lucian runs a tight ship-and I do mean _tight_. If you don't do something that's asked of you right the first time, there's consequences, and your pissing and moaning isn't going to do jack shit."

The younger werewolf sighed, running a hand through his red-brown hair. "This still sucks."

"Hey, be glad it's Lucian dishing out the punishments, and not that Viktor fellow," his lanky companion replied. "I once heard that he threatened to have Lucian fed in pieces to the other lycans."

"Damn, that's _gross._" Taylor wrinkled his nose. "Who told you that?"

"Sabas, back before he took that silver bullet through the brain."

"Sabas? Sure you can trust him? He always was a little…_off._"

"Yeah, but he was also there with Lucian during all that. I would think he was telling the truth. Besides, Xristo and Raze backed him up on the story."

"Still…that's just nasty." The younger lycan shuddered. "Suddenly, this doesn't seem so bad."

"Thought so."

From up above their heads, there came the sounds of soft footsteps on the concrete. Both lycans looked up, brows furrowing.

"Rats?" Taylor suggested.

"Those are some big damn rats. Probably just one of the tunnel inspectors."

"Do they come down this far?"

"Sometimes."

With a swish of clothing whisking through the air, a dark, lithe figure dropped through the entrance, landing with ease on the rocky ground. Pierce and Taylor quickly, yet clumsily, shouldered their weapons and commenced firing, but the figure fluidly avoided their bullets, moving so fast they were little more than a black blur. Suddenly, something seized Taylor by his throat and slammed him against him against the wall of the tunnel so hard that he blacked out for a few short minutes. But in that brief moment, Pierce had been disarmed and given a nasty blow across the face to keep him occupied. Whoever had originally grabbed Taylor, they had picked him back up again, holding him so his feet dangled pitifully off the floor. A pair of electric blue eyes flared angrily at him, while an alabaster hand pressed the muzzle of a pistol against his temple.

"You're going to take me to Lucian. And you're going to do it now if you wish to keep your brains inside your skull."

* * *

For once, it was quiet in Lucian's office-that was something that didn't happen often.

He leaned back in his chair, tipping it onto its hind legs, his dark eyes surveying his semblance of an office. Usually, unless he was asleep or had set up strict orders not to be disturbed-and sometimes, even during those times-there was always at least one other lycan in his office, and, more often than not, they were whining or arguing about something.

Lucian had not foreseen this nuisance when he had led the lycans to break away from the yoke of the vampires. It was true, at first, he expected the lycans to question the orders he gave-he'd held a high rank, but even the head slave was still a slave, as it were. Of course they would doubt his orders. What he hadn't anticipated was the number of petty complaints and squabbles he would have to listen to and try to smooth over.

_It seems I'll have to work on improving their self-sufficiency,_ he mused, lowering the chair legs back to the floor. _But for now-a moment of peace. I best enjoy it._

As soon as that thought had crossed his mind, from outside of his office door, confused shouts could be heard, as well as angry footsteps approaching the door. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Spoke too soon.

The door banged against the wall as someone thrust it open, and it slammed firmly as it was closed. Before he could move, he felt the cold of a pistol's muzzle placed expertly right behind his left ear. A loud, metallic click signaled that a new round had been chambered and was ready to be fired.

"Where's Michael?"

To his immense surprise, it was one of the last people he expected to be skulking around the lycans' den-at least, in light of recent events. After a moment's astonishment, a small, cocky smirk worked its way onto his lips.

"You know, I'd be more likely to answer your question if you didn't make yourself seem so eager to splatter my brains all over the wall."

With a huff, Selene lowered her Beretta, eyes glued-and glaring-at the legendary lycan master. She continued to watch as he slid out of his chair, got to his feet, and turned around to face her.

"Well?"

"Patience, Selene," he replied, the smarmy smirk still glued to his face. "Almost as bad as Kraven. I'm starting to see why he thinks you two should be in a relationship together."

This time, Selene's pistol was jammed up under his chin. Her face was no more than two or three inches away, cerulean eyes flashing with rage, her finger hovering precariously on the trigger.

"Not funny," she hissed dangerously. "Now, answer my question."

His grin fading, he pushed the pistol aside, gray eyes smoldering. "If you continue to behave in such a fashion, I'll tell you nothing," he warned. "Need I remind you that not only are you now on my territory, but you barged in here uninvited? It is my domain, and I will not kowtow to the demands of one over strung, upstart vampire-particularly not when they continue to point a gun, presumably loaded with silver bullets, at my head."

Without the slightest change of expression, the vampiress lowered the gun and took a step back. Lucian tugged on his coat, adjusting it slightly, eyeing her with stony satisfaction.

"Much better."

"Now will you tell me where Michael is?"

"He's out the door, across the common area, through the double doors, and down the hallway," he instructed precisely. "He rooms with Brenner, another new recruit, in room 13B."

She nodded firmly, before turning her back on him and heading for the door. Just as her hand closed around the doorknob, Lucian spoke again.

"What do you intend to do with Michael when you find him, Selene?"

"Get him out of here," she replied coldly. "Far from you and your ilk."

He gave a low chuckle, smirking at her back. "Go ahead-take him. He's already served his purpose here."

Her hand tightened on the doorknob, until the molded metal gave way and crumpled under her fingers. "You used him for some sick experiment, didn't you?"

"And you and your kind wouldn't have used him in the same way? Found out what made him so valuable to my kind?" he countered. When he garnered no response from the veteran Death Dealer, he smirked again. "Yes, I thought so. To answer your question, Selene, yes, I did use him for an experiment. And he yielded exactly the desired results."

"And what exactly did you do to him?"

"Nothing major-your precious Michael is just fine. I merely took what I needed from him and told him to go find an empty room and make himself comfortable."

"So you used him to benefit yourself, am I to know?" she accused hotly.

"Of course," he replied, a bit of a mocking tone in his voice. "Because I'm _terribly_ selfish, just like everyone else in this miserable, forsaken world. However, 'benefitting myself' meant putting an end to a war that's been raging for nearly a millennium, to finally bring some peace to our underground, concealed worlds." A not-so-subtle dose of sarcasm made its way into his voice. "Oh, yes, I'm _so _wickedly selfish."

"You_ are_ selfish," she hissed. "You started this fucking war, in case you'd forgotten. You didn't end it for any noble cause; you ended this war to keep yourself and your miserable species from obliteration."

Lucian raised a brow. "I'm sorry, _I_ started this war? Is _that_ what Viktor has been telling all his little fledglings?" He shook his head, tsking. "I pity all of you-he's been letting you all walk around as an ignorant bunch, blind to the real reason why you've been fighting."

Now at the end of her quickly-fraying tether, Selene gave the doorknob a vicious twist, opening the door and starting to storm out.

"I'll bet my immortality that you didn't know you're fighting to avenge the death of Viktor's daughter, whom-and I'll bet my life in addition to my immortality that he also didn't tell you this-he put to death himself."

She froze, arm still outstretched from thrusting the door open. It fell back against her hand, but was disturbed once more as she turned around, fixing her gaze on Lucian.

"What?"

"So I _was_ right," he mused, meeting her gaze with his own, never wavering. "Viktor's been letting his precious Death Dealers walk into battle blind for over half a millennium, hasn't he? Sad, really."

"He wouldn't do such a thing," she insisted quickly, unable to believe her own ears. Viktor, the man who had shown her such tender, fatherly affection these past six centuries, kill his own daughter? It simply couldn't be true! "You lie."

Lucian's lips curled into a devious smile. "Would you like to put money on that statement?" When she said nothing, he motioned to another chair in the same room. "Please, have a seat. Time to correct six centuries of misinformation."


	8. 7: Force These Sorry Eyes to See

_**A/N: **Ohhhh dear. It has been a while since I updated, hasn't it? In fact, it's been well over a year and a half since I last updated this, and I'm willing to bet that most of you thought it was just never going to be updated again, didn't you?_

_I'm not going to lie and tell you I was extremely busy. The honest truth is that I forgot about this story. I had a first draft that I was working on back in senior year (God, the last time I updated this, I was a senior in high school. I'm a sophomore in college now), but I scrapped it due to the fact that I thought it sucked. And then I just sort of forgot about this story until I decided to resurrect it._

_The good news is that I will actually finish this story. It may take me until graduation and beyond to do so, especially considering that I started this story nearly four years ago and haven't even written ten chapters. But I will finish it one day._

_Anyways, I would like to thank **nasiamarie88**,** chase young's daughter**, **Cryostylz**, **keili77**, **Me12243**, **GABINCUBUS**, and **SpeedDemon315** for their reviews. Hope you guys will stick with me despite my hiatuses! It's your support that will see me to the end of this!_

_**Disclaimer: **Still don't own Underworld, still too piss-poor to buy the rights._

* * *

"My word for dark rhymes with your word for light, and

It's not quite as pretty as the pictures we've painted

But those were just afterthoughts

And all new thieves are after us

I think they're after our heads

Dear Lucid, my time is right to

Dance away while the bullets fly

You know they come so close

I'll bet they put something in the air tonight

Just to light your face

Now bombs light the sky like

Our fireworks just like

The ones that ignited the first time our eyes met

But this time it's over wars

Your payback, your wanting more

Is gonna make this all over for us."

-"_Dear Lucid, Our Time is Right Now_" by Evans Blue

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Force These Sorry Eyes to See  
**

Selene eyed the chair that Lucian gestured to warily. After a moment, he sighed.

"The chair will not bite, I promise." He stood up, crossing the room and producing a metal folding chair from the corner. "And neither will I. Please, sit down."

She took a seat in the chair offered to her. Lucian unfolded the collapsible chair, setting it up across from her and taking a seat. The former Death Dealer leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, eyes narrowed at the lycan.

"So let me make sure I understand you," she began. "Viktor has been lying about what really started this war?"

"You're a quick learner, I'll give you that," he replied, the tiniest hint of condescension in his tone. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Think about it this way, Selene: The coven looked to him to lead them against these…foul beasts, I do believe was one of his terms of endearment for my kind. Put yourself in his place, if you will. Would you really tell all those who are looking to you for guidance that not only are you the reason for this war that was likely to exterminate both species, but that you killed your own daughter and single-handedly started this war to boot?"

"I still don't understand it—why would he kill his own daughter? His flesh and blood…surely, a father couldn't be so cruel?"

"I do hate to sully your oh, so noble image of Viktor," the alpha lycan began, although his tone belied his words, "but your beloved mentor was far from the saint you see him as."

"Why? That's all I want to know—why?"

Lucian reclined in his folding chair, though his dark eyes never left Selene. "To fully answer that, it really is for the best if I start at the beginning. You do have some time before Kraven tracks you down, throws you over his shoulder, and drags you back to his lair, do you not?"

"Well, if Erika's plan goes as it's supposed to, he shouldn't be doing any of that. So start talking." Out of habit, her hand gently rested on the Beretta pistol holstered at her hip.

Lucian frowned. "Thinly-veiled threats are not going to make me talk any faster."

Frowning, Selene removed her hand from the comforting grip of her pistol, instead folding it with her other hand in her lap. "Better?"

"Much. Now, I'm not sure how much you know of lycanthropic history and lore," he began. "Probably not much, seeing as Viktor threw Tanis out of the coven and you lost the only good historian you ever had. At any rate, the curse used to be different. A bite from a lycan was a life sentence to a monstrous existence. Back in the days, only death could return a bitten victim to their human state.

"Viktor, as well as Markus and Amelia, loathed these beasts, and feared for the safety of their own kind. So lycans were tracked and imprisoned—or exterminated, depending on whether they tried to eat their Death Dealer captor or not. They even managed to imprison the progenitor of this infectious disease: Markus's own twin brother, William. Yes, Selene, that silly little nursery rhyme that Viktor dismissed as legend is actually quite true," he remarked, seeing the surprised look on her face.

"The times were quite turbulent back then. Turbulent enough that the typical pattern of hibernation for the Elders was disrupted for at least a century, possibly longer, so that all three Elders could work to bring the lycan population under control. At the end of that century, they left Viktor to rule the coven, knowing he could deal with any additional problems with little to no trouble. After all, he had been a ruthless commander in his life, and vampirism did little to change that. It was in that century of Viktor's rule that I was born—and things changed."

"What changed?" Selene asked, a note of suspicion in her voice.

"The lycans changed. And it all started with me."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Despite the fact that my mother—who was born a nameless peasant and died a nameless peasant—had been bitten by a lycan, she whelped a child as pink and fleshy as any human child. That child was me—born of a savage beast, but born as a human, with a human's sense and reasoning.

"I don't know what it was that prevented Viktor from killing me that day. After all, he had already put a crossbow bolt into my mother's skull, why not just do away with me and call it a day? But something stayed his hand. Something made him take me into his arms and return to the castle, to raise me until I could fend for myself amongst the castle." Lucian paused. "To this day, I've never understood why he wanted to raise me himself, instead of just passing me off to another vampire. Maybe it was compassion, or maybe he just wanted to keep a closer eye on me. Whatever the case, he took me to his wife and presented me as an infant who needed a mother's care." He smirked. "At first, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. But after a while, she gave in, and cared me for as a mother would care for her own child, even though I was a lycan and she, a vampire. Thus, until I was old enough to be of use around the castle, I was raised by Viktor and Ilona themselves. I even came to think of Viktor as a father—but I was no son to him. What I was was an oddity of nature to be carefully monitored, and as I got older, something to be exploited for Viktor's own personal gain."

"That's all very fine and well," Selene cut in, tapping her boot impatiently against the stone floor. "But I'm failing to see your point."

"Patience. You told me I had time to start at the beginning, and that's exactly what I'm doing." He shot her the tiniest of smug grins. "May I continue?"

"Fine."

"Excellent." His grin faded, a faint hint of recollection gracing his features. "When I was seven, Lady Ilona gave birth to a child—Viktor's child, a healthy and beautiful little girl. However, she ended up giving her own life to bring that girl into this world. She passed shortly after naming her daughter."

His expression became the tiniest bit wistful. "I think I loved Sonja from the first moment I saw her. It wasn't the kind of love that I would later hold for her though; I was but a boy of eight, and she was a red-faced, screaming infant in her maid Luka's arms, what did we know of love? What it was is that I saw her as a kindred spirit. I knew nothing of my real mother, and knew Lady Ilona to be my mother. She would remember nothing of her real mother, and likely instead look to Luka as a mother. It wasn't the best thing to have in common, but it certainly was_ something_.

"I do recall when that love changed, however, when it became an infatuation. We were older; Sonja had just turned sixteen, had joined the Death Dealers, however much against her father's wishes it was. I had taken over as the castle's blacksmith, and was charged with the task of forging her first real sword. She came to get it herself when I sent word that I was done, and allowed me to place it into her hands myself. She thanked me with all the cool and composure the daughter of an Elder and a future Council member was supposed to have, of course, but I could see it in her eyes: she was thrilled to have this sword. Later, I spotted her practicing alone in the courtyard, and even though I knew it was not my place, I offered to spar with her. We fought, and in the end, she had backed me into a pile of hay, and gave me this beautiful, triumphant grin. Yet, despite her victory, she did not brag or boast. She simply thanked me and left. I knew then that I loved her."

"Did she ever…love you back?" Selene asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. The image that she was trying to keep in her mind, the one that portrayed Lucian as a heartless beast who had started the war that had killed so many of her kind, was slipping slightly, flickering like an old television set.

"She did, but not until she was older. It took nearly two decades for her to confess her feelings to me—though with good reason. Our union was forbidden by the Covenant, as you probably know, so we had to carry on in secret. Amongst the others, both her kind and mine, she treated me with indifference that, more often that not, bordered on utter disrespect." He chuckled softly. "God help me, I rather liked our little charade…well, at least I did at first. I enjoyed it until Viktor started trying to arrange a suitable marriage for Sonja.

"I can't be sure who hated the idea more: Sonja or me. As a lycan and a slave, however, I knew I had no right to say anything, unless I was in the mood for a sound beating. Sonja, on the other hand, was quite vocal about her distaste for her suitors. I think the only one she actually tolerated was Tanis, and that was because she found him amusing. Her continued rejection of her suitors infuriated Viktor to no end, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Eventually, I think he stopped trying."

"So what went wrong?" Selene asked, straightening in her chair slightly.

"Pardon?"

"Things went wrong at some point. Our species were in a six-century long bloodbath until only a month ago. And I've never heard of this Sonja, nor has Viktor mentioned her, so I'm going to take a guess and say she's dead. If that's the case, something had to go wrong."

"What went wrong is that I wanted freedom." He tugged the collar of his shirt aside to reveal several crescent-shaped scars on his neck. "Moon shackles, Viktor called them. He collared us like dogs—and the collars were silver. We couldn't transform without impaling ourselves on the spikes. Even without transforming, we were always getting poked and scratched by those damn spikes, living every day in constant pain and fear that one day, we were going to do something stupid and wind up impaling ourselves through the throat anyways. Viktor, in his arrogance, thought he has us beat."

Lucian stood up, making his way to what appeared to be his desk. Amidst the cans of brass polish, clips of ammunition, and scattered papers there was a small wooden box. The lycan master opened it, scooped something out from inside, and closed the lid. Turning back to the vampiress, he tossed whatever it was to her. She snatched the object out of the air mid-flight, and opened her hand to find that it was a key.

He smirked. "Viktor's biggest blunder: Making a lycan a blacksmith."

"You forged the key yourself." The barest hint of a grin pulled at Selene's lips.

"I told Sonja that I would use this key to gain my freedom. She wanted me to never use it, knowing that if I were caught without my collar, I would pay dearly for it."

"Did you use it?" Selene tossed the key back to Lucian.

He caught it, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. "Yes. To save Sonja. And pay dearly, I did. I think it was the day Sonja finally saw her father's true colors, and decided she didn't like what she saw, because nothing else could have driven her to do what she did."

"What did she do?"

"She formed a secret resistance," he answered, pride lighting up in his eyes. "While I was rallying the lycans down in the dungeons, she gathered the Death Dealers she trusted most. They planned to undermine Viktor's laws and take him down in favor of enacting Sonja as reigning Elder."

"Can that be done?"

"Of course it can be done. Mortals stage these kinds of coups all the time. The only reason vampires—in particular, the Council, or Markus and Amelia—never tried it was because Viktor had the most power."

"Of course he did. He was the oldest of us, the strongest."

Lucian snorted. "Hardly. It's a lovely explanation, yes, but hardly the truth. No, Viktor's power came solely from his bullying of Markus and Amelia—Markus in particular. That, however, is a story for another time. I have something more important to finish first.

"As I was saying, Sonja raised a rebellion of her own, with only her most trusted Death Dealers. The end goals of the lycans and of the Death Dealers were completely different from each other; the lycans wanted freedom, Sonja's rebellion wanted equality." He sighed. "Her vision never came to pass, however. When I led my brethren to freedom one night, one of her 'loyal' Death Dealers betrayed her and the others to Viktor. He found out the truth—she told me that he bit her, drank her blood, and learned of the truth that way. He imprisoned her, using her as the bait that would bring me back to the castle, and ordered the other conspirators to be arrested, tortured, and executed for treason.

"It only went downhill from there. I returned to rescue Sonja—but we were caught, and overwhelmed by Viktor and his Death Dealers. She took him in single combat, and beat him, too. He didn't realize how strong a warrior she was. But when he was at her mercy, she didn't demand his head or anything like that. No, she pleaded for mercy, for herself, me, and her unborn child."

"Wait." Selene raised a hand, interrupting Lucian. "Her unborn child? As in…a child she conceived with…with you?"

"Ah, you are a fast learner."

"That's impossible," she argued. "A vampire and a lycan…they can't breed together."

"Oh, but they can. Sonja was of an exceptionally pure bloodline, and I…well, I'm not sure certain about the bloodline part, but my mother was a lycan. We're both purebloods. It can happen. In fact, it did happen—and then, Viktor declared it to be an abomination, a betrayal to him and to the coven. Sonja and I were both arrested. She was tried by the Council, found guilty, and sentenced to death."

"He wouldn't. Viktor wouldn't be so heartless."

"Oh, you'd be surprised. His vote could have spared her life, but instead, he took it from her, and from the baby, as well. An innocent child, whose only crime had been existing, had been having two parents that loved each other." Lucian stood suddenly, moving about the room, carefully keeping his back to the vampiress. "I still remember the last thing she said to me. She was scared, I knew she was. I was scared, too, terrified, even. _Goodbye, my love_. Those were her very last words to me. Even to her last breath, she loved me."

"And what did you do after she was…gone?"

With a sigh, Lucian turned around, facing her and approaching his chair. "There was little I could do. My chains still held me, and my grief overwhelmed me. And so, I laid there. And I waited. And I wanted to die with her.

"Once the sun had gone down, Viktor and his cronies returned. When I saw him, I felt an anger the likes of which I had never felt before consume me. I wanted nothing more than to tear him to pieces, make him feel some small fraction of what I felt. And now, I had the moon on my side." He smirked. "Another blunder, to leave the sun door open after the sun had gone down. He let the full moon find me—and I let it take me.

"I broke loose from my chains, slaughtered the guards he set on me. I would have killed him, too, but escaping was a better option to me. I took the one part of Sonja that was left"—He gently touched the pendant hanging around his neck—"and ran. His Death Dealers thought they could stop me with arrows. All they did was make it worse for them."

"What do you mean?"

"They should have known I would call for help. And they found themselves drowning in lycans. While my brethren kept the Death Dealers occupied, I went after Viktor. We fought, and for a while, he was winning. But then, I gave him a taste of his own medicine. I bound him in chains, and poised myself to strike my blow. Before I did, he informed me that he now regretted not crushing me underneath his heel the day I was born. As I rammed my sword down his throat, all I told him _you should have—but you didn't_."

"What happened after that?"

"You know the rest, however altered it may be," Lucian remarked. "Viktor, along with the two other Elders and Tanis, fled to Hungary and started anew at Ordoghaz. Several years later, Kraven 'killed' me and became the great conquering hero. The rest, as they say, is history."

"You neglected to mention that your disgusting brethren killed my family, not too long after Kraven killed you."

"Did he really tell you that?" Lucian raised an amused brow. "Why am I not surprised, that he pawned that nasty business off on my race?"

"Are you suggesting that Viktor killed my family?" Selene asked, stunned.

"I'm not suggesting. I'm telling you that he did."

"Why?"

"Unfortunately, that's a question I don't have an answer to. I know, however, of a certain historian who may know…"

"Tanis?" she spat. "I'll walk into sunlight before I ask that traitor anything."

"And to think, I just spent the last hour and a half telling you the same story that Tanis tried to tell over three hundred years ago, yet you still call him a traitor." He shook his head. "It's like you haven't learned _anything_."

"How do I know that all of this isn't some elaborate story the two of you concocted?"

"Ask Kraven."

"Fuck you."

"Tempting as the offer is, I'm afraid I'll have to decline." Lucian sat down, reclining in his chair, eyeing her with mild amusement. "However, I'm quite serious. Ask Kraven. He witnessed your family's massacre. In fact, from what I've heard, he did more than witness, he helped."

"What of this grand story you've fed me about the death of this Sonja, and the start of the war? I suppose he saw that, too?"

"Don't be stupid. He wasn't turned until after Viktor arrived in Hungary. He was, however, created by Viktor—and received his memories of everything, including what started the war."

"Impossible."

"Oh?"

"I was created by Viktor, too," she replied, feeling a small surge of victory, thinking that she had finally caught Lucian in a lie. "And I certainly didn't receive any memories like that. I got a few, but nothing having to do with that."

"Do you think Viktor made the same mistake twice? No, after Kraven, he learned to be more careful about who saw his memories."

Selene just barely resisted the urge to groan. _Of course, he would have an answer for that, too._

The lycan master stared at her as if he expected a response, but she said nothing. She didn't know what to say; his arguments were sound, and she couldn't refute them. Conceding to them, however, felt like a betrayal to her. Throwing away six centuries of a close, trusting relationship with Viktor for the word of a mangy lycan? She simply couldn't do it. So instead of replying, she simply stared down at her jeans, picking at a loose thread.

"You don't trust me, do you, Selene?"

She cut him a cold glare, but it didn't faze him. He simply stood up, straightened his coat, and started for the door. Suspicious, the vampiress stood too.

"Where are you going?"

"To take you to someone you _will_ believe."

* * *

_**A/N:** Yes, I did throw a little something extra into Lucian's story. Yes, it does play into this story. If you don't like it, go to the internet and complain about it. Flames will be used to keep the dragons happy. Remember, kiddies, do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup._

_All right, I'll stop babbling like a moron now, and I promise to be more prompt in my updating!_


	9. 8: Nothing but the Truth

_**A/N: **Greetings to all you lovely people! As promised, I've gotten a new chapter up a bit faster-although it has still been five months. I really need to improve my transit time as far as getting these chapters done goes..._

_Anyways, thanks to **Witchy Bee**, **SpeedDemon315**, **QueenSquint**, **Scavator**, and **AssassinsArchAngel** for their lovely reviews! _

_**Disclaimer:** You know the drill, I don't own Underworld or its characters, blah blah blah..._

* * *

"Consider this

Consider this, the hint of the century

Consider this, the slip

That brought me to my knees, failed

What if all these fantasies come

Flailing aground

Now I've said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing

I thought that I heard you sing

I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream

That was just a dream

That's me in the corner

That's me in the spotlight

Losing my religion

Trying to keep a view

And I don't know if I can do it

Oh no, I've said too much

I haven't said enough."

-_"Losing My Religion"_ by R.E.M.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Nothing but the Truth**

While the bathroom may have made Michael's inner doctor cringe and want to start searching for the bleach, he had to admit one thing: It could have been a lot worse. There was running water—hot and cold, even—and the bar of soap he'd been provided with, while cheap and used by God only knew how many lycans before him, had cleaned off the dirt and dried blood caked on his skin. He ran a hand over his jaw, still damp from shaving. A shower and a shave had made him feel somewhat more like his old self—a comforting notion.

Slinging his wet towel over his shoulder, he exited the bathroom, plodding down the hall of the subterranean bunker the lycans called home. As he made his way back towards his room, he couldn't help but admire Lucian's ingenuity in regards to the housing of his pack. An old, abandoned underground bunker, left over from the days of World War II…really, if someone thought about it, the perfect place to house a rambunctious pack of lycans. There were rooms, a vast dining hall, communal bathrooms, and even room for Singe—the strange, rat-faced scientist—and all his equipment.

It was almost like college, Michael realized. Living away from his home, in a bland room whose only personality came from its occupants? Sounded an awful lot like dorm living. The fact that he shared a room with a complete stranger only added to the experience. Eating in the dining hall reminded him of his college's dining hall—although oddly enough, the lycan fare was more appetizing. The communal bathroom was reminiscent of the hall bathrooms from college, although the men he shared the bathroom with seemed far less private than the guys he had shared the bathroom with in college. There were even drunken parties every night, although the ones hosted by his new brethren were far rowdier than any of the ones he'd seen or been to in college.

_I'm living in lycan college,_ he thought. It was enough to make him snicker.

"Michael! Michael!"

A shout brought him out of his reverie. Looking up, he saw his roommate, the excitable, freckle-faced, auburn-haired lycan whose name he could never properly remember, sprinting towards him.

"What is it?" he asked, puzzled.

"Lucian sent me," the man panted, skidding to a halt before Michael. "He's in our room. He wants to see you." He grinned, making himself look even more impish. "And there's a woman with him."

The American lycan's heart skipped a beat. Could it be..? "What does she look like?"

"Tall-ish. Thin. Short black hair. Pretty hot, too—a solid nine, if not a ten." He wrinkled his nose. "Smells like a blood, though. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd still do her, but she reeks like a blood." He sighed. "I know we made peace with them and all, but I don't think it's right, bringing them fuckers into our den. What is she's one of those Death Dealers and this is some kind of trap?"

Michael had stopped listening when he heard his roommate mention that the woman smelled like a vampire. It was true—Selene was here. He shoved past the other lycan, who was still rambling on about his misgivings where vampires were concerned, and sprinted down the hall. His bare feet were very audible, making loud, meaty smacks against the cold floor as he did so. Finally, he reached the door to his room and flung it open, half-fearing that this was all a joke and the room was as empty as he had left it. To his immense relief, however, not only was Lucian standing in the middle of the room, Selene was with him.

"Selene!"

She turned to face him, a spark of hope glimmering in her eyes. "Michael," she breathed—but that was all. She did not rush to embrace him like he had thought—hoped?—she would. But at the same time, he expected it. Though she looked different, stripped of her leather battle gear and dressed instead in civilian clothes, she was still the same Selene. All soldier. All business.

The twin Beretta pistols, holstered at her hip by two comically large and awkward holsters, only confirmed that.

There were so many things he wanted to do. To wrap her in his arms. To hold her against his chest, and never let her go again. To kiss her as she had kissed him, that night in the safehouse.

But he didn't. Instead, he turned to Lucian, who had been watching the two with an expression of forced detachment. "I was told you needed to talk to me?"

"I do—and I don't," he answered. "I do need you, but I believe it is Selene who will be doing most of the talking."

"I want to know if what he's told me is true," she chimed in, taking a step closer to Michael. Her arms were folded across her chest, her expression all business. "About the war. About…everything."

"I see," the American doctor answered. That's why Lucian needs me here. I've seen his memories. I know the truth, and she'll believe it if she hears it from me.

"Well?"

He nodded. "It's true…all of it."

Much to her credit, Selene's expression stayed steady, betraying nothing. The only change was that she folder her arms a bit tighter across her chest, a gesture of self-comfort rather than of businesslike impatience. "So Viktor started the war?"

"Yes."

"And he…he killed his own daughter?"

"Yes."

"And Kraven has been in league with Lucian for these past six centuries?"

"Obviously," the lycan master cut in. Selene shot him a withering glare, but he stood firm. "I should like to point out that we've been trying to end this war for ages. We succeeded, didn't we?"

She snorted. "Some success it was. Kraven's in charge and the Elders are dead."

"The Elders were a necessary sacrifice. Viktor would have never ended this war, not until every last lycan was dead. That, or every last vampire—whichever came first. Amelia was Viktor's puppet, she would have done the exact same thing. And Markus…" He trailed off, mulling over the proper way to share his thoughts on the remaining Elder. "Markus never cared for the war, and he loathed Viktor. I can hardly fault him for either—were I in his shoes, I would feel the exact same way. However, Markus allowed himself to be made a puppet, a slave to Viktor's will. He was weak. He had to go."

"So you killed them," Selene accused. "You killed the Elders."

"I thought we already established that," he sighed. "Yes, I did. And I haven't looked back since."

"How do you sleep at night, knowing that you've left Kraven in charge of both covens? Knowing that he will lead us to ruin?"

"Quite easily, actually." Lucian leveled his dark gaze on Selene, his expression cold. "Six centuries of genocide didn't give me much reason to care about what happened to the lot of you, in case you'd forgotten."

"So killing the Elders was your way of getting revenge for that, wasn't it?" Her expression was angry, but Michael was close enough to see the hint of tears glimmering in her eyes.

"I can't tell if you're stupid, or merely very stubborn," Lucian remarked icily, his eyes noticeably darker than before. "I've said it before, I'll say it once again, and this is the last time, so you'd best listen: I killed the Elders to end the war."

"Well congratulations," Selene snarled. "You ended the goddamn war. You also left Kraven to lead my kind to extinction. I hope you're satisfied."

Michael moved to reach for her—just a touch, something to cool her down. Before he could, however, she spun on her heel and stormed out, disappearing down the corridor. Behind him, Lucian merely shook his head.

"And, of course, I am the villain in all this," he remarked dryly.

The American lycan didn't reply, only continued to stand there, arm still outstretched. From far down the hallway, he heard a lycan shout angrily—and then a cold, unforgiving gunshot and a cry of pain. The lycan master sighed.

"And now she's shooting my men. How considerate of her. I won't hear the end of this for weeks."

Michael's temper flared at the scathing remark; he rounded on his maker, just barely restraining himself. "Leave her alone."

"Have I struck a nerve?"

"It's a lot for one person to take in all at once." He scowled at Lucian. "She needs someone to be with her. Comfort her."

"Forgive me if I don't trip over myself to rush to her side. I'd rather not be pumped full of silver bullets. She's livid. She'll shoot."

"She's not livid." It was true—she wasn't. Selene was something else, something that, even as an intern, Michael had seen his fair share of. "She's…_grieving._"

"Grieving?" Lucian raised a skeptical brow.

"Well, yeah," Michael answered, nodding. He knew what she was going through. The very same kind of grief had found him, caused him to uproot his comfortable life in America and take up an internship in Hungary. "Her entire way of life has been changed…and now, she knows that not even her past is entirely certain. It's a lot to process all at once."

Lucian merely continued to stare at him, brow raised. Sighing, the young lycan turned around, back towards the door. Selene's footsteps had completely faded away; he hoped she was all right—at least, all right physically. He couldn't make any positive assumptions about her mental or emotional state at the moment.

"Would you just go to her already?"

"Huh?" Michael was dazed by the sudden statement.

"Just go to her," Lucian ordered, his voice firm but not unkind. "I don't know if I can take any more of you just standing there, staring forlornly out the door. It's really very pathetic. Go."

"Thank you."

He nodded, before making a gesture to shoo the doctor out the door. Michael left his room, following the hallway in the direction he had heard Selene go. He passed a scruffy, bearded lycan in the hall; the man was clutching a bloody rag to his shoulder, and gave a cold glare as Michael passed.

Eventually, he found Selene—or, rather, she found him. He found himself far outside of the den, past the sewer gate that led down to the back entry to the den, passing a dark little niche in the wall when he heard the familiar click of the safety of a gun being shut off. He whirled around, finding a pair of luminous blue eyes looming out of the darkness at him…and the muzzle of a Beretta pistol mere inches from his skull. He threw up his arms defensively.

"It's just me!"

There was a pause, then, she lowered the pistol. Without a word, she disappeared back into the niche in the wall. Michael moved to stand in front of it, to talk to her, to try to comfort her.

The space was too small to sit down, even for someone as slender as the vampiress. Instead, she slumped against the wall, her shoulders hunched forward, head bowed, everything about her posture screaming defeat. The sight of it made the young man's heart ache.

"Selene..?"

A ragged breath escaped her. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay."

"Okay?" Her laughed was choked, heavily forced; in the dimness, Michael swore he saw a few tears roll down her cheeks. "I'm perfectly fine. I've only just found out that the man I trusted the most killed my entire family and kept me to turn into the ruthless killing machine he failed to make his daughter."

Her sarcasm stung, as if she had slapped him. "You don't have to be rude. I was only trying to help."

"Help? There's nothing you can do to help. What's done is done. Viktor's gotten his perfect little lycan killer out of me. Of course, those skills aren't going to do me any good any more, now that Kraven's taken over, ended the war, and is driving our species to extinction."

"Surely it can't be that bad," Michael replied, trying to sound soothing. He only managed to sound very uncertain.

Selene lifted her head, finally meeting his gaze. Her teary, red-rimmed eyes were solemn—and much to Michael's surprise, they were worried.

"You don't know what he'll do."

"But I do."

Both heads turned at the sound of his voice. Selene's fingers twitched, tightening impulsively as they would around the grips of her Berettas…but to her credit, she kept them holstered.

"I thought you didn't care about what happened to my kind," she remarked.

"I don't," Lucian answered, making his way towards them. "That doesn't mean that I don't know what he'll do, though."

"What exactly will he do?" Michael cut in, still a bit lost.

"The same thing he's done for centuries now," Lucian answered in exasperation. "Care only about himself and what becomes of him. This time, however, he has an entire coven whose fates he must keep in mind, and an entire coven who will, in turn, suffer for his gross negligence."

"At best, he'll run the coven into the ground," Selene chimed in, her voice bleak. "At worst, we'll be driven to the brink of extinction. Probably by humans."

"If my kind doesn't kill you first, that is," Lucian informed her.

The vampiress directed her attention to Lucian very quickly at his comment; her entire body went tense. "We have a truce!"

"That we do. But, if I may be frank, the terms of this truce are utter bullshit. The lycans have, as I foresaw, been neglected as the spoils of victory are being tabulated. Really, the only difference has been that my men aren't coming home riddled with bullet holes anymore."

"But you can't order your men to attack," Michael spoke up. "That would break the terms of the truce…wouldn't it?"

"It would. I can't outright order them to attack…but that won't stop them from doing it themselves."

"Fantastic," spat Selene. "So it's to end with the coven either fading out of existence from neglect, the humans slaughtering us all, or the lycans tearing us to pieces. Just _perfect._"

"Now, now," Lucian began, "don't lose your head. There is another option."

"And that would be..?"

He gave a lopsided, wolfish grin. "We stop this before it starts."


End file.
